


the mortifying ordeal of being hugged

by SyntheticRevenge



Category: The Mechanisms (Band)
Genre: Angst, I can't tag for this fandom for some reason, M/M, The Mechanisms-Typical Violence, Touch-Starved, a hard life our jonny leads, but also touch repulsed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:26:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26569516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SyntheticRevenge/pseuds/SyntheticRevenge
Summary: Jonny doesn’t like to be touched. That’s one of the first rules of the Aurora, and everyone learns it the hard way. Try casually putting an arm around him and you’re lucky if you get to keep it.(Or, Jonny D'Ville and his eternal struggle to accept affection)
Relationships: Jonny d'Ville & Gunpowder Tim, Jonny d'Ville/Gunpowder Tim
Comments: 11
Kudos: 140





	the mortifying ordeal of being hugged

**Author's Note:**

> Me? Starting another multi-chapter sort of aimless Mechs fic centered around my stupid Jonny feelings? It's more likely than you think.

Jonny doesn’t like to be touched. That’s one of the first rules of the Aurora, and everyone learns it the hard way. Try casually putting an arm around him and you’re lucky if you get to keep it. Dismemberment’s no fun, never mind that the arm’ll grow back eventually.

Making physical contact with him and getting away alive and unscathed is a contest of skill, the kind of thing the Mechanisms bring up on half-hearted dares. Marius tells them, every time, that that’s not a  _ great _ thing to do and that they’re not respecting Jonny’s personal space or potential traumas. The response, generally, is ‘turnabout’s fair play’, which is hard to argue with.

It’s a longstanding tradition. Tim was on the Aurora about three weeks, vision still staticky and occasionally whited-out by half-remembered lunicide, when Nastya dared him to hug Jonny.

The immediate eruptions of protests and “Come on, Nas, no fair”s from the rest of the crew definitely sort of put him on edge about the whole thing, but he sort of almost enjoyed being on edge, now that there weren’t consequences for the violent ways in which he reacted to the feeling.

Besides, how scary could Jonny really be? He didn’t know the man well, and sure, he had an off-puttingly manic energy to him, but no one was gonna out-manic the man who blew up the moon. Violence was Tim’s new favorite way to interact, and he always got the sense it was Jonny’s as well, so if this was some trick on the part of the rest of them, some stupid hazing ritual, then fine.

He shook off all of their shitty comments and set off to find Jonny. He wasn’t used to the Aurora yet, even still, and he always got lost easily, especially since his vision was still a little bit fucked. He learned, about a week in, that it’s a hard ship to map. He’s pretty sure her guts shift. It’s really more about feeling your way to where you want to go than actively knowing the path.

So he practiced drawing his gun quickly as he let the Aurora guide him, and sure enough, he ended up at a door that could only be Jonny’s, based on the amount of warning signs taped to it in multiple different people’s handwriting. Tim caught a ‘he’s particularly murdery today, watch out’ one, signed ‘the person who will have to pull the bullets out of your body if you ignore this’, and sort of laughed to himself, knocking on the door.

Jonny wrenched it open after a moment, eyes bloodshot, black lines on his face dark and streaking, looking dead exhausted, yet still somehow close to vibrating with some kind of dangerous energy. Tim got, immediately, why people might be a little scared of him, even if they hadn’t seen his severed head laughing at them.

“The fuck do  _ you _ want?” Jonny asked, sniffing hard and running a hand back over his freshly-buzzed head.    


“Not much of a greeting for a new friend, is it?” Tim asked, beaming, mostly because he was pretty sure that aggressive cheer would only irritate Jonny more, and at this point, he was challenging himself.

“ _ Friend  _ is a bit strong and overfamiliar, I think.” Jonny sort of sneered, not giving any ground to let Tim in. 

“Oh, come on, we fought together! Some people would consider us  _ brothers _ ,” Tim said, with a little too much fake enthusiasm.

“Boring, sentimental people, and war-zealots,” Jonny said. “Besides,  _ you _ were fighting for England,  _ I _ was fighting for fun.”

“I wasn’t fighting for England either,” Tim said, shrugging, fairly casual despite the fact that that’s not something he’d ever admitted out loud before. “Well, I was at first.”

“Grab yourself a laser, lad, and serve your queen,” Jonny said, with a shit-eating grin and a posh flourish.

“Yeah,” Tim said. “Catchy song. Didn’t give a shit anymore after a bit. Started fighting to survive, after a bit. Then I fought for Bertie.”

“Your…?” Jonny asked, a flicker of curiosity behind his relatively dead eyes.

“Fuck’s it matter to you?”

“Defensive.” Jonny’s eyebrows shot up. “No fun. Were you really fighting for him, or were you fighting because it felt good to make people pay?”

“Bit personal, isn’t it?” 

“I thought we were  _ friends _ ,” Jonny said, particularly shittily. “Look, you won’t get any judgment from me. I’m addicted to a good many things, but pain is my drug of choice, and I love to give just as much as receive.”

“D’you always talk like a particularly shit villain in an even worse play?” Tim asked, smirking a little incredulously, and Jonny scowled again.

“Not my fault you can’t appreciate the ability to turn a decent phrase.”

“Fine,” Tim said, sighing. “Yeah. Felt good to make people hurt as badly as I did.”

“Like Achilles screaming for Hector in the hyperlanes of Troy,” Jonny said, something that almost sounded like admiration in his tone. “I do love a good tragedy.”

“Uh...sure,” Tim said. “You going to make me stand out in the hall?”

Jonny’s brow furrowed, face shifting inscrutably. “Yes...? Why are you  _ here _ ?”

It wasn’t too hard for Tim to manufacture a reason, since he was actually thinking along these lines anyway. “I heard you’re the oldest. The first one of us Carmilla made, I mean.”

“You heard correctly.” Jonny’s tone went completely cold and cautious, his entire face setting hard and stoic at Carmilla’s name. “And?”

“How long have you--”

“Too fucking long. What’s it to you?”

“I was just curious,” Tim said, defensively, throwing his hands up in surrender. “Sorry for having questions about my impending immortality.”

“You’ll enjoy the first hundred years or so, and then you’ll start the creative suicide attempts,” Jonny said, flatly. “If you’re anything like me, which for your sake, I hope you’re not.”

“Glad I have so much to look forward to,” Tim deadpanned, still trying to figure out an angle to justify hugging Jonny, because he really did want to impress Nastya. She terrified him and he at least wanted to assert he was worthy of being there. Ashes as well, though they seemed like they could care less.

“It’s a neverending fucking funfest, eternal life,” Jonny said, raising his hand in a sort of ‘cheers’ gesture. “Welcome.”

“Thanks, I think,” Tim said, half-smiling. “Are you, uh--you okay?”

“Yes,” Jonny said, flatly. “Always. I’m literally physically incapable of not being okay. It’s a bit fucking exhausting, at times.”

Tim seized his opening and wrapped his arms around Jonny in a very awkward, rushed hug, his hair in Jonny’s partially open, shocked mouth. He could almost feel Jonny’s mind physically whirring in his skull, pressed into Tim’s shoulder.

He expected immediate retaliation, but Jonny just awkwardly sort of stood there and accepted it, body completely tensed and coiled to pounce.

Tim let go, and Jonny glared daggers into him. 

“Because you’re new, I’ll give you a fifteen second headstart,” he said, incredibly tightly, through his teeth.

“I don’t need it,” Tim said, beaming.

“Oh, believe me,  _ you will _ ,” Jonny said, baring his teeth in a distinctly canine and mildly frightening way.

Tim decided not to take his chances. He only made it as far as the rest of the crew before Jonny violently murdered him. Nastya said later that he, in her words, ‘failed the dare miserably’ and was sort of disappointing. Apparently the ship agreed with her, which Tim wasn’t sure was even fair.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments sustain my lifeforce <3  
> Find me on tumblr @witnesstotheend


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